Beneath the Scars (44 page)

The drive was quiet, Zachary’s tension evident. I reached over and rubbed the back of his neck as I sang along with the radio, ad-libbing the words I didn’t know, making him chuckle. I was pleased when his shoulders loosened a little, giggling when he winked and turned up the radio, putting an end to my impromptu concert.

When we arrived at the hospital, his nerves returned. He kept his head lowered and his hand wrapped around mine so tight I needed to ask him to loosen his grip. “Sorry,” he muttered.

In the elevator, I turned to him, ducking low so he was forced to meet my eyes. “No one is going to judge here, Zachary. This is about our child. Not you.” I drew in a deep breath. “Stop expecting rejection—give people a chance before you assume the worst.”

His eyes widened and his expression changed from wary to open. “You’re right.” He nodded and nestled me to his chest, nuzzling my temple. “Our child.”

The elevator doors opened and we stepped out. I offered him my hand again and with a tight smile he took it. “You can do this,” I encouraged.

His grip tightened. “With you, I think I can do anything.”

We were both smiling when we entered the doctor’s office.

Dr. Booker didn’t even blink when I introduced Zachary to him. He smiled warmly and clapped him on the shoulder, telling him he was pleased to meet him, then ushered us both to the ultrasound room. Zachary relaxed more in the dimly lit room and gazed around, his nerves still showing with the drumming of his fingers on his thigh. Dr. Booker explained the procedure to us both and answered a few questions Zachary had for him as he watched the doctor set things up. He was patient and made sure we both understood everything before starting the ultrasound. I gasped a little as the cool gel hit my tummy, grinning when Zachary mouthed “amateur” at me. Compared to the temperature of the water he stuck his feet into every day, the gel was nothing. His smile was wide when I stuck my tongue out at him, thrilled that he’d relaxed enough to tease me. Bringing him closer to the examination table, I watched his face, transfixed at his expression as the rapid sounds of our child’s heartbeat filled the room—the wonder and awe of the moment erasing everything else. His hand tightened on my arm, his gaze fixated on the screen in front of him. He leaned closer, peering at the image, his eyes wide and filling with tears. He turned his head, his voice filled with emotion. “Our baby.”

Dr. Booker chuckled. “Your baby is cooperating today. You want to know the sex?”

“Yes.” Both Zachary and I spoke at the same time.

“It’s a boy.”

My own eyes filled with tears. A son. We were having a son.

Zachary pressed his lips to my temple, his damp cheek rubbing on mine.

“I love you,” he whispered.

It was a different man who escorted me out of the hospital. Zachary’s shoulders were straighter, his head held high. He ignored the few, more open, curious glances; his entire focus on me. I nestled into his side, amazed at the change, proud of his courage. Even his hold felt different; more possessive and sure. Once at the car, he insisted on fastening my seat belt, then laying his hands over my tummy and stroking the swell.

His eyes were shining when he looked up. “My boy.”

I stroked his cheek. “Your son.”

He held up the sonogram picture, his voice filled with wonder. “Our son.” Leaning forward, his lips grazed mine; soft, gentle touches of adoration. “My sweetheart.”

My heart thumped at his use of his endearment. I always felt so loved when he murmured it to me. His eyes were soft as he shut my door, never leaving mine as he walked around the vehicle and slid inside.

A yawn escaped me as he settled beside me, inserting the key. “I have to pick up the stuff from Mrs. Cooper, then I’ll take you home.”

I nodded, still amazed at how something so small, like a trip to the doctor, could tire me so much.

I beamed when Zachary went inside the store, the picture still gripped in his hand, smiling proudly when he came out. There was no doubt he’d been showing it off to Mr. and Mrs. Cooper. I knew if he wasn’t so worried about taking me home to rest, he’d have gone to the gallery to show it to Ashley, as well. I knew a trip to see her would happen in the next couple days. I loved seeing how proud he was as he tucked the picture into his sun visor, glancing up at it often during the remainder of the drive.

I frowned nervously when the SUV rolled to a stop by his back door.

“What are you doing?”

He stared straight ahead, his hands wrapped around the steering wheel. “Will you come inside with me, Megan?”

I hesitated. I hadn’t been back to his house yet. There were so many memories there and Karen’s place was neutral ground for us. Zachary spent time in his home studio, while I worked on my book at Karen’s, happy when he would appear at some point. There were always warm kisses and gentle words of hello, and although I knew he hated to leave again, even for a few hours, he understood I needed time.

However, maybe it was time to expand our world again.

“Please,” he whispered, turning to me, his face and voice vulnerable. “I have something to show you.”

I turned around in a circle in the upstairs bedroom, speechless. Zachary had renovated the room closest to his into a nursery. The once mocha-colored walls were now painted the softest blues and yellows. The heavy glass and metal desk and filing cabinet were gone, replaced by a simple maple crib, which was set up in the corner with a matching dresser and change table placed in close proximity. Right by the window, a large, cushioned rocking chair and table were nestled, waiting. I loved every piece in the room. “You can finish it with all the other stuff we need.” He spoke from the doorway, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “If you don’t like anything, we can return it.” He crossed the room and picked up a huge teddy bear from the rocking chair, holding it out to me. “I thought maybe the baby would like this.”

“How—” I choked, my throat thick with emotion, as I reached for the bear, hugging it to my chest.

“I wanted to surprise you. I chose these colors thinking they’d be good for a boy or a girl. I thought they were…soothing.”

“I thought you were painting in your studio.”

“This was more important.” He stepped forward, his voice wary. “I wanted to get this room done so if you decided—”

“If I decided?”

“To come back to me.” He drew in a deep breath. “If you decided to come back to me, I’d be ready; for both of you.” His warm hand cupped my cheek, brushing away the tears with his thumb. “Please come back to me. Give us a chance. ”

“Zachary—”

He shook his head interrupting me. “Please, sweetheart, listen to me. You told me Karen and Chris were coming down this weekend.”

I nodded.

“Come stay here with me. Please. At least try.”

He indicated the room around us. “I want this to be our son’s room. Our…home.” He stepped closer. “I want you here with me, so it feels like home again, Megan.

“I know we have a lot to work out, but I can’t stop thinking about you here. Being able to touch you anytime I want. Knowing you’re downstairs while I’m painting. Falling asleep with you.” His head fell to my shoulder. “I slept so well with you beside me.”

I curled my fingers into the hair that fell over his collar. I felt a deep rumbling sigh in his chest. He lifted his gaze to mine, his eyes bright with emotion. “I want a life with you, Megan. In this house, or somewhere else, if that’s what you want. Wherever you want to be, I’ll follow—anywhere.”

I knew what he was saying. If I went back to Boston, he’d give up his private life here, to be with me—to be with us. I blinked away fresh tears.

“I want to stay here.”

“With me?”

The two small words were spoken with so much want. He showed his vulnerability in both his actions and words. He created this room for his child. He wanted me to stay with him.

He was handing me his heart, unsure how I would receive it, and willing to take the chance of being rejected.

Despite what happened, and the pain we’d both gone through, I still loved him.

I would always love him.

“With you.”

Zachary’s eyes filled with tears. “I’ll take good care of you and our son. I won’t ever leave you again.” He stroked my cheek. “Nothing will ever take me away from you. I love you, Megan.”

The feeling I’d been missing so much welled up inside me. It seeped into every molecule and settled deep into my skin, blooming and taking hold. The feeling of being complete.

With Zachary I was complete.

“I love you.”

His smile was brilliant, and I gasped as he swooped me up into his arms.

“Let’s go get your stuff.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

A light breeze pushed through the curtains, the gauzy fabric billowing in the air as I stepped out of the shower. I heard the sounds of laughter and barking, the noise drawing me to the window. Below, on the beach, was my favorite sight in the world. Zachary, tall and strong, standing ankle deep in the water, holding a small figure in his arms. Our son’s tiny fist clutched the material of Zachary’s shirt while his other hand gestured toward something in the water he wanted. I knew Matthew would be talking a mile a minute in his daddy’s ear, directing him to pick up whatever stone, seashell or piece of wood that had caught his eye.

Sure enough, Zachary lowered Matthew down to the watery sand and bent low to capture whatever treasure from the sea our son had demanded. He crouched down, the two dark heads touching as Matthew crowed in delight at his find. Both heads were so similar you couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. When he stood up, I chuckled. Even standing, they were alike. Both clad in jeans and long sleeved, white shirts, their pant legs rolled up, feet bare and submerged in the cool water. Like his father, Matthew loved how the water felt against his skin; I’d given up trying to keep shoes on his little feet and losing them to the surf as they got carried out to sea.

Behind them, Dixie, Elliott, and Rex, our newly adopted dog, chased each other around on the sand, tails wagging, excited barks filling the air. After a minute, Matthew pushed his new find into Zachary’s hand for safe keeping and joined them in their game of tag. Soon his happy giggles were added as his favorite playmates welcomed him with enthusiasm. Not to be left out, Zachary joined the group and more laughter and shouts rang out from the beach.

I rested my head to the glass and gazed on in wonderment. It never ceased to amaze me how Zachary had changed. Not even a shadow remained of the angry, bitter man I met on the beach over three years ago. The last of his former self had fallen away the day our son was born. His newfound joy was reflected in every aspect of his life. His paintings were filled with light, exploding with color and brilliance. His eyes only reflected trust and love when they met mine. His hair-trigger temper rarely ever showed and on the odd occasion it did, it burned itself out as fast as it ignited. There was a peace about him now, one that permeated every aspect of our life.